


new beginnings

by eliotkeats



Category: High and Low: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliotkeats/pseuds/eliotkeats
Summary: Somehow, they tug him over to join them on the picnic table.





	new beginnings

He’s meeting them in what passes for a park in Oya High’s little sliver of S.W.O.R.D, trying to keep his face from wrinkling in distaste as he steps over used needles on the sidewalk.  The trees are electric with cicadas and his bangs cling to the sweat beading on his forehead.  

He finds Tsuji and Shibaman beneath what seems like the largest tree in the park.  The ground is worn bare around its roots and there’s a picnic table in the shade; the rubber-coated type that skin sticks to in this sort of heat.  Shibaman’s sitting on the edge of the table, and Tsuji’s on the bench, leaning back between his spread thighs.  They’re talking quietly together, and as Todoroki approaches, Tsuji tips his head back and Shibaman leans down to give him a quick peck on the lips.  

Todoroki stops in his tracks, watching.  A prickle of jealousy courses through him and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.  He knows they’ve been together far longer than he’s been with the both of them; it’s only natural that they’d be closer with each other than they are with him.  But he hates the way he feels watching them — uncertain and suspicious, even though they have no reason to lie to him; they wouldn’t dare.  

Tsuji notices him, standing and watching, and a half-smile flickers across his face as he hops off the bench to greet him.  

“I can come back later if you two are busy,” Todoroki can’t resist saying snidely, but he lets Tsuji clasp his hand and pull him into a one-armed hug.  

Shibaman goes for a fistbump, and when Todoroki merely regards the proffered fist with a raised eyebrow, laughs and drags him into a rough embrace, pressing an equally rough kiss against the corner of his mouth.    

Somehow, they tug him over to join them on the picnic table, Shibaman resuming his seat on the tabletop and Todoroki sitting next to Tsuji.  

Shibaman produces a trio of wrapped popsicles and bumps his knee against Todoroki’s shoulder until he takes notice and picks the pineapple flavor.  He’s a little surprised to be handed an intact popsicle instead of a small plastic bag of icy slush, until he notices the shabby foodcart set up halfway across the park.  He mutters his thanks, strips the wrapper off, crumpling it in one fist, and bites off one corner of the pale yellow ice.  The cold against his mouth is heavenly and he can’t resist a quiet sigh of relief.    

Tsuji plucks at the sleeve of his black jacket.  “Aren’t you hot?”  He takes the popsicle out of Todoroki’s hand.  “I’ll hold it for you.”

Todoroki reluctantly slips out of his jacket and begins to roll up the sleeves of his white shirt.  Shibaman wolf-whistles and grins when Todoroki pauses to glare at him.   

Tsuiji watches the whole affair appreciatively and hands the popsicle over when he’s finished.  As slim as Todoroki is, he still has more muscle mass than the far more wiry Tsuji, and Shibaman is stockier than the both of them, soft beneath his layers and binder.    

Shibaman leans over to slurp a bite off Tsuji’s popsicle and laughs through a full mouth of slush when Tsuji protests and pulls away.  Todoroki’s teeth clamp down so hard that a chunk of tinted ice falls off the popsicle stick and lands on his pants; he shakes it off quickly and it lands in the dust.  His boyfriends laugh but it tapers off when he doesn’t join in, just strips the remaining popsicle from the stick with his teeth and tosses the stick onto the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Tsuji asks.  

“Nothing.”  He gathers his jacket up from the bench beside him.  “Look, I have to go.”

“You just got here,” Shibaman says, through a full mouth.

Todoroki twists and smiles at him.  “You two can have fun, I’m sure.”

“Wait — are you jealous?” Shibaman asks, incredulous. 

“Why would I be jealous?” 

Behind him, Shibaman snorts and there’s a slurping sound as he sucks on his popsicle.  “ _ Something’s  _ put a stick up your ass.”

Tsuji doesn’t say anything, just hums, and then in one fluid movement slides off the bench and crouches in front of Todoroki.  Todoroki is unsure of how to react, so he stares, instinctively defiant.  Shibaman’s watching them.  

“Me and him don’t talk cuz we don’t need to,” Tsuji says, brief, jerking his chin in Shibaman’s direction, “and also we’re not good at it.  But, we still like you when you’re not around, Todoroki.”  

“Yeah,” Shibaman chimes in.  “You wouldn’t be our boyfriend if we didn’t like you, like, a  _ lot _ .”

Todoroki feels a knee press momentarily between his shoulderblades as Shibaman shifts so his legs are on either side of Todoroki’s shoulders.  “Bought you that popsicle.  Would a man who’s anything less than in love do that?”  Callused fingers grip his chin and tip his head back, remove his glasses with equal care, and then Shibaman’s lips overlap Todoroki’s, cold from the popsicle and tasting of orange.  The angle strains his neck, so the contact doesn’t last for long.  

Tsuji rises to his feet and throws a dismissive glance at a staring couple walking past before leaning down and kissing Todoroki thoroughly.  

“You’re our boyfriend and we love you, okay?” he says when he pulls back.  He extends a hand to Shibaman, who puts the folded up glasses into his palm, and Tsuji slips them back onto Todoroki’s face.  Todoroki blinks.  “Don’t get sulky, idiot.  Just talk to us.”

Todoroki opens and closes his mouth, feeling vaguely ashamed.  The tips of his ears are burning.  “...fine.  I will.  ...love you too.”


End file.
